This Can't Be Good
by Kristynite
Summary: AU based off a dream I had. The world is ending for vampires. With new powers and stronger abilities, vamps have been deemed war criminals by reverend-turned-politician Steve Newlin. One girl, a teen vamp turned centuries ago, and her progeny join forces with a ragtag group of vampire survivors (and one condemned 'vampire sympathizer') to fight for justice and freedom.
1. Chapter 1

The end of the world did not come suddenly or without warning. It was long in the making, having been building since biblical times, starting when Lilith met Adam and Eve. But when everything started coming to a head, Louisiana was the first state to take the hit. And boy, did it get hit hard.

Vampires came out of the coffin seven years before, a kitschy phrase that had been coined by members of the AVL to make us seem less threatening. I guessed they figured that humans finding out about our existence was comparable to a gay teenager confessing his unexplained love for boys in baseball pants.

For the first two years, things went relatively smoothly. We were considered a minority but we tried to mainstream, living off of artificial blood and willing victims with an adrenaline addiction. But then, something happened. Vampires began to evolve, something that humans and vampires alike did not know was possible. New abilities were discovered. Not only could they fly but they could shoot electricity from their palms, similar to the fairies we'd heard stories about. Not only could they operate at 'vamp speed' but they could hear thoughts and predict actions and responses of humans.

We were suddenly considered the ultimate danger. No longer were we mere oddities, another minority group to marvel and curse at. We were devil-children, spawns of the Dark Prince sent to do his bidding and terrorize the innocent. Some vamps, mostly the older, more ruthless vampires who despised humans anyway, gave up on mainstreaming. They fed on humans, turning them and usually leaving them for dead.

That's when we discovered another major building block of our evolution. Our abilities, be it flying or voice imitation or walking on water, could be passed down to our progenies.

It was then (and very possibly _why_) I turned Jessica. Before that time, I saw no need for a progeny. Who needed the extra responsibility in this world? I'd lived over 2,000 years without a sidekick. But when the world started to end, I knew I needed someone. And given my age and the abilities that I'd acquired over time, perpetuating my bloodline just seemed like the wise thing to do.

I found Jessica in the woods one night, hiding and crying about some guy who'd broken her heart. Here we were in the midst of an apocalypse and this girl was hung up on a stupid boy. But I could sense that her emotions ran much deeper than the starting quarterback and so I glamoured her, just to find out the things she was too afraid to admit to anyone (including herself).

Maybe I just related to her. I'd been sixteen when I was turned, only a year younger than her. We could stay young forever and together, two teenage vampires with tight bodies and sharp fangs, feeding and fucking our way through central Louisiana. Maybe she reminded me of someone in my past. Maybe I just had a thing for redheads. I wasn't sure what it was that drew me to her but I turned her there in the woods that night. And though she was scared as hell in the beginning, Jessica Hamby proved herself to be a strong, competent warrior and a loyal friend. We'd walked side-by-side ever since.

The real trouble started two years ago when esteemed media figure Reverend Steve Newlin rose to political power. He ran for office and won in a landslide, promising the people of Louisiana that he would put the Fellowship of the Sun's beliefs and practices to good use in keeping humans safe.

And then, a year ago yesterday, it happened. Governor Newlin, who had become fast friends with the president and other major political figures, declared Louisianan vampires war criminals. He didn't just take away our rights. He effectively made us the enemy. Dozens of other states followed suit until only three or four legally allowed vampires within its lines. Killing vampires didn't just become legal. It became sport. New weapons were developed. Silver bullets, silver arrows, UV guns, wooden projectiles, casual flamethrowers for at-home use. We were an animal to be hunted and hung up on the wall, stuck between a singing bass and buck antlers.

The Japanese company behind TruBlood saw this as an opportunity to get even richer. Still willing to cater to vampires, several Japanese companies began to produce pro-vampire creations that helped keep vamps hidden. They fine-tuned TruBlood, making it thicker and richer like real blood. They thought up new ways to make cars and rooms light-tight. They created armor for vampires and remedies to help with silver related injuries.

Naturally, the American government, seemingly headed by Steve Newlin at this point, ordered the Japanese to stop aiding and abetting vampires. When they refused, the U.S. declared war on Japan. The Japanese responded by letting vampires enlist in their armies. The world's first all-vampire infantry battalion brutally slaughtered the first wave of American soldiers to reach the shores.

And so, for the last year, this is how it has been. In Louisiana, Steve Newlin's cronies (men in full body armor with silver-loaded automatic weapons) round up vampires. Those who aren't killed on-site are put into vamp-proof cells and tortured with UV rays and silver spray. Even still, they are considered the lucky ones. Bloodthirsty rednecks take to the streets with silver chains and sharpened broom handles, pouncing on anyone who they suspect could be vampire. Mob justice at its finest.

Jessica and I have, so far, lain low. We stick together, stay quiet, pretend to be human when we need to. But we decided long ago that we wouldn't just lay down and take it if the wolves came to our door ('wolves' meaning Newlin's cronies, not actual wolves. Actual wolves have been scarce since the brutal treatment of vampires scared all other supes farther back in the metaphorical closet.)

And that's how Jessica and I ended up hiding in the bushes, spying on two of Louisiana's lower-level government officials. Well, I was in the bushes. Jessica was in a tree, straddling a branch and getting distracted.

"Jess and Camilla, sitting in a tree," she cooed quietly. "But-not-really-cause-she-won't-help-me." I rolled my eyes, picking a pinecone and chucking it at her.

"Quiet," I hissed. I nodded my chin towards the men in suits, chatting under a streetlight. "They'll hear us."

"We're the ones with supersonic hearing," Jessica said, swinging her long legs back and forth. "Not them. They're two hundred feet away. And we're whispering." I threw another pinecone.

"This could be important," I said.

"Right, like the last three times it 'could have been important' and they were just talking about hookers and golf." Sigh. Reach. Throw. "Quit throwing pinecones!"

Jessica was seventeen when she was turned but she didn't look much like a teenager. Like all of today's teens, Jessica was precocious. It wasn't like that back in my day. Teenagers, though they had much more responsibility and independence, still appeared much like children. But at just five years old, Jessica was still considered a baby vamp. And she had held onto a lot of her humanity. And it tended to get on my nerves.

Jessica managed to stay quiet just long enough for me to finish listening to the judges' conversation. Soon, they disappeared into a Cajun restaurant, leaving my progeny and me standing in the woods with nothing to do.

"So," said Jessica, leaping from the tall tree and landing on her feet with a _thud_. She was dressed like a human, in black jeans and a pink t-shirt. Her red hair was pulled back and she wore cowgirl boots that I thought were tacky. "Was it important?" She cocked her head to the side, mocking me.

"Don't sass me, Jessica," I warned, pointing in the direction from which we came. "Walk."

"These boots are made for walking," she sang under her breath, a wide smile spreading across her face. I shook my head.

"Just one night, Jessica," I said. "One night without singing or mocking or sassing." She snickered and kicked a rock across the path.

"Remind me again what we've been doing out here," she said, her shoulders slumping. "And why we're spying on judges and listening to phone calls and all that."

"I've told you, my darling Jessica," I began, piling on the drawl. She wasn't the only one who could sass. "We're trying to find out what the Reverend's next step is but–" I gestured for her to continue and she rolled her eyes like a high school student being scolded.

"But Steve Newlin is too high-ranking and important and he has tons of security, blah blah blah, so we need to see if any information has trickled down the ladder. Right. Got it." I smiled and patted her lower back sarcastically.

"Very good, my child. I knew you were listening."

The trail that cut through this particular section of woods, often referred to by locals as Boar's Pass, was about a mile long. Sure, we could have used vamp speed and returned to town in a moment or two but around these parts, nothing was really worth that risk. I'd explained that to Jessica time and time again but not all of my lessons really sunk in.

Behind us, a twig snapped. We froze mid-step. I was ready to wait it out, allowing my senses to take in all possibilities before reacting. Jessica, however, acted out of raw, baby vamp instinct. She spun around, fangs dropped, and let out a growl. If my heart still functioned, it would've beaten out of my chest. Fortunately for us both, it was a rabbit that had broken the stick, not a vampire hunter or one of Newlin's cronies.

Jessica's brow furrowed when she realized what she'd just done. My hand was on her jaw before she could speak.

"My child," I said, narrowing my eyes and staring hard. "Put those fangs away before you get us both skinned alive."

Swallowing hard, Jessica retracted her fangs.

"I'm sorry," she said. I smiled as best I could and touched her cheek.

"No more mistakes," I said. She nodded and followed behind me, silently, the rest of the way.

I'd parked the truck just outside the woods, hidden in the shadows of a long-forgotten bakery. It was a black H3 Hummer that I'd glamoured away from some military enthusiast in Shreveport.

"Where to next?" Jessica asked, buckling her seatbelt. She'd been so used to wearing her seatbelt in her human life that she couldn't break the habit.

"Bon Temps," I said.

"That little hick town?" she asked. "What's there?"

"Someone who knows the Reverend," I said. The engine turned over and we pulled away with the squeal of burning rubber.

"An important figure in Bon Temps?" Jessica questioned. I just laughed.

"Don't question me, my child."


	2. Chapter 2

The drive to Bon Temps wasn't a particularly long one but it was far from scenic. Jessica grumbled in the passenger's seat like a toddler on a road trip.

"We're here," I said, pulling to a stop in front of the city limits sign. I turned to face my whiny progeny. "You remember what we say?" She gave me a single, confident nod.

It was a little after 2 AM. Most towns in Louisiana had strict curfews regarding when people could enter the city. These laws were set into place to keep vampires out. Strange people moving to town in the middle of the night? Doesn't look great. Luckily for me and Jessica, with our fangs up, we just looked like two kids in their dad's SUV. Double lucky, Bon Temps was a town so small that you'd miss it if you blinked. I doubted that a town this tiny would have any real security.

Still, you could never be too careful.

We rolled into town slowly, headlights illuminating the narrow road ahead. We made it about a quarter mile before we were stopped. I breathed a sigh of relief when I saw a hick in a lawn chair rather than a government agent in vamp-proof armor. He was clad in a short-sleeved red flannel and a Dale Earnhardt Junior cap. He tapped on my window, scowling like a madman, but his expression softened when he saw us.

"What are you two young ladies doing out this late?" he asked. He had a thick Cajun accent. But I could do him one better.

"Just passing through on our way home, sir," I said, my Southern belle drawl rolling smoothly off my tongue. "We got a little lost before but we're on track now. Our mee-maw is sick. We're coming back from school to see her."

"You two are sisters?" he asked.

Jessica and I didn't look like we could ever be related. She was tall and pale, her hair a natural shade between strawberry and pumpkin. I was smaller and tanner, having originally been from Greece in my youth. My hair and eyes were dark. But I'd had a lot of time to fine-tune my lying.

"Foster sisters," I explained. "Our parents adopted kids from Georgia. But they moved to Shreveport when I was 12 and Olivia here was 13." I jerked my thumb towards Jessica who was pretending to text. He shined his flashlight in Jessica's face and I resisted all of my urges to throw him into the next parish.

"You know there are vampires around these parts," he said, eyeing us carefully. It was like he wasn't quite sure if he should believe us. Time to hammer it on home.

"Oh, yes, sir," I said. I reached into my shirt and pulled out what appeared to be a silver cross on a matching chain. In reality, it was costume jewelry. Not a trace of silver in the thing. But Hillbilly Hank didn't need to know that. "Daddy gave me and Liv matching silver necklaces the day after those _fangers_ started walking around." I licked my lips. "And we carry that vaporized silver spray in our purse," I continued. "Like mace."

"And Daddy taught us both to shoot," Jessica said, mimicking my accent. "We've got permits to carry pistols. We've got wooden bullets, mister. What about you?" I bit my lip to keep from smiling. Maybe Jessica _did_ listen to my lessons. One of the key elements in charming your way out of anything is feigning genuine interest.

"9 millimeters," said the man, showing us his gun. "Silver on the outside, wood on the inside." I looked at my fake foster sister and forced a huge, impressed smile.

"We need to get us some of those, Liv," I said. "Keep those dead bastards at bay." I gasped and covered my mouth with my hand. "I'm sorry for my language mister."

"That's quite alright, little miss," he said, nodding his head. "You two run along now. Don't keep your gran waiting."

"Thank you, sir," said Jessica. "Stay safe out here." He tipped his ball cap and we drove off.

As soon as we turned the corner, Jessica and I exploded into laughter.

"It's so easy!" Jessica cackled. I shook my head.

"I liked the little texting act," I said. "Very realistic. And asking about his gun. I taught you well."

"How about you?" She reached across and slapped my arm. "'Oh gosh, please pardon my language, mister man.'" She giggled. "You act like this black-hearted vampire, Camilla, but you're a funny bunny."

Because Bon Temps was so small, it took only a couple of minutes to arrive at our destination.

"Oh come on," Jessica whined as I parked. "More woods?" I smirked.

We made it about two hundred feet before she started up again.

"I don't like bugs, Camilla," she whispered, stepping over a mud puddle. "When I was seven, a spider got into my room and bit my foot and I had to get all these shots." She shuddered.

"I know, Jessica," I said. "You've told me."

"Hey," she said about two hundred feet later. "Do you think if we got bit by mosquitoes, they'd get all supercharged because of the V?" I stopped, turning around and shushing her with my fingers to my lips. "Because they're kind of vampires, too," she continued, hushed.

"Jessica, my child, you are my progeny and I treasure you," I said. "But please stop talking."

We continued in silence, trekking carefully through the brush. Jessica followed close behind me, not really sure where I was leading her. She was a loyal progeny and while she sometimes drove me up the wall, she rarely asked questions when she knew I was serious about something.

"We're here," I said quietly, pointing to a small light shining through a group of bald cypress tress.

"Okay," said Jessica. "Where are we exactly?"

I didn't have a chance to answer her before something caught my attention. It wasn't exactly a sound. It was more of a feeling. I just sort of sensed a general perturbation about fifteen feet northeast. Against better judgment, and perhaps out of instinct, I rushed off towards the disturbance at vamp speed.

I was surprised to find two vampires, both female, crouching behind a bush. One was pale with long blonde curls. She was dressed in a red leather jacket and white slacks. The other was black with a blue tank top over dark-colored jeans. It took me a second to realize that the blonde had her arm cocked back. In her hand was what appeared to be a Molotov cocktail.

I peered up. We were less than a hundred feet away from the house I'd been looking for. And with the angle of the blonde vampire's arm, there was no doubt that that top bedroom window was her intended target.

"God damn it," I grumbled before snatching the blonde vampire by her neck and pinning her to the tree behind her. I snatched the cocktail from her hand and tossed it gently to the grass below. "Are you out of your mind?" I asked, attempting to keep my voice low.

"Who the fuck are you?" asked the pale vampire, struggling against my grip like a chicken trying to escape a farmer's hands. Her fangs were dropped, her pupils dilated.

"Put those itty-bitty baby fangs away before I take them out and turn them into earrings," I said, my head cocked slightly to one side. The blonde looked to her dark-skinned partner before retracting her fangs. "Thank you," I said and dropped her back to the earth below. She rubbed her neck. I figured I might have better luck speaking to the other vampire. "Who are you?" I asked the woman in blue.

"I'm Tara," she said, looking unfazed. Maybe this wasn't the first time she'd seen her friend accosted by an older vampire. "Don't mind Pam. She has trouble around new people." Pam scoffed, her hands on her hips as she looked me up and down.

"You mind telling me who you two kiddies are?" she asked, narrowing her eyes and me and Jessica who had taken her rightful place beside me.

"Who I am," I began, taking a step towards her, "is a way fucking older vampire than you, Barbie." I took another step and she flinched, though it was subtle. Maybe she was trying to save face in front of her partner. "And she," I continued, holding my hand out to Jessica, "is my progeny." I smiled.

"Hi," said Jessica, wiggling her fingers at the pair of lady vamps before us.

"Now, if you would be so kind as to tell me what the fuck you were doing with this thing," I pointed at the Molotov cocktail now under my shoe, "we can get this shoe on the road."

Pam was still sizing me up. Her arms were now crossed over her chest. My analysis of her so far was that she was a bit of a drama queen. She definitely wasn't used to being told what to do and she didn't like being made out to seem weak in front of Tara, who, I assumed was either her girlfriend or her progeny. Maybe both. Who was I to judge?

"Not that it's any of your business," began Pam, and I saw Tara roll her eyes, "we were getting shit _done_."

"Getting shit done," I repeated, eyes-widening as I nodded along with her explanation. "By killing the Reverend's sister?"

"Woah, wait, what now?" Jessica asked, grabbing my arm. "Steve Newlin has a sister? Here?" She pointed at the house. "You never told me that!"

"You never asked," I said, deadpan. She made a face.

"Come on, Camilla, you have to tell me these things!"

"Camilla," smirked Pam. "That's your name?" I licked my lips.

"I've had several names," I said. "Camilla is the name I chose."

"Hold on," said Jessica. "Can we please get back to Steve Newlin having a sister? Whose house we're standing outside of?"

"Yeah, little Camilla," said Pam.

"Pam, quit being so standoffish," Tara said.

"Everyone shut up," I commanded. I froze, shutting my eyes and listening hard to what the world was telling me. "Let's move. There are guards in front of her house. A lot of them. So we need to have this conversation elsewhere." No one moved. "Unless you feel like meeting the sun this morning," I suggested. I looked from face to face. "No? No one?" No response. "I didn't think so," I said. "Let's go."


End file.
